


Housewarming

by alisvolatpropiis



Series: Sterek: PWP [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, ChestHair!Derek, Comeplay, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Derek is kinda bossy, Dirty Talk, Domestic, M/M, Marking, Mirror Sex, POV Stiles, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rebuilt Hale House, Rimming, Smut, bearded!Derek, katroptronophilia (mirror sex)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1685237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisvolatpropiis/pseuds/alisvolatpropiis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles are moving into the newly rebuilt Hale house, and Derek finds use of a housewarming gift from Lydia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Housewarming

**Author's Note:**

> **Chronologically, this takes place before Sterek/Salvatore, which was posted first – but since it’s PWP it doesn’t really matter all that much. 
> 
> **Inspired by a very NSFW pic. Link at the end if you're interested...

“What’s that,” Derek asks, jutting his heavily-bearded jaw toward the full-length mirror leaning against the bookshelf closest to the door.

Stiles looks up from where he’s organizing books on another large, sturdy shelf that Derek built with his own wolfy hands. Stiles' first favorite thing about the just-finished remodel of the Hale house – his house, him _home_ now – is that he shares it with Derek; his second is the enormous California-king sized bed he convinced Derek to buy to fully take advantage of the new master bedroom they built by combining two smaller rooms; his third favorite thing, though, is the former den he’s turning into an actual, honest-to-god library. In his house. When the universe giveth, the universe really freakin giveth.

Stiles wants to spend the day – their second day of moving, their second day living in the house together – lovingly and carefully organizing the library, but Derek seems to have other plans, judging by the way he’s pressing up against Stiles’ back, hips demanding. He’s been out running the property line, leaving his scent to mark the boundaries of the newly-zoned Hale-Stilinksi property. Derek’s gotten more territorial and protective about the house and land since they moved, a possessiveness that lay dormant during the rebuilding but is surging full force now, the instinct to protect his first home with his mate pure and earnest.

Derek’s sweaty and panting a bit against the back of Stiles’ neck, the press of his hands on Stiles’ abdomen growing more insistent. Stiles moans in mock frustration, tossing the books from his hands and letting them hit the floor in a messy heap as he leans into Derek’s touch. “That,” Stiles says, finally answering Derek’s question, “is a housewarming gift from Lydia. I think it’s supposed to be a sly comment on how we dress. Or how I dress, more likely.”

Derek smiles and nibbles at his ear, then rubs his beard along the tender skin just behind it, inhaling deeply to soak up the bloom of arousal that wafts from Stiles as a result. It’s a familiar gesture that Stiles will never tire of, that and all of the other little ways Derek knows how to get under his skin and settle himself there, making him feel more alive and _complete_ than any other time. “Subtle,” Derek comments, turning his face away from Stiles’ neck to look back at the mirror.

“Right,” Stiles says wryly. “I’ll put in in the guest room." 

“You could do that…” Derek says, drawing it out and letting the last word hang there, uncertain..

Stiles twists around to look at him, catching the dark gleam in his ungodly pretty eyes. Stiles knows that look well. It always leads to delicious Dereky goodness. “What are you thinking, Sexywolf,” he purrs, still not tired of using his secret high school nickname for Derek now that he’s admitted to having it.

Derek just growls and returns to the beard-burn masterpiece he’s leaving on his neck and shoulder. Stiles is getting harder by the second, and Derek’s been pressing hard against his ass this whole time. He can practically feel the ridged head of Derek’s uncut cock nestled between his cheeks through the thin material of the basketball shorts Derek is wearing, that Stiles _finally_ convinced him were much more appropriate workout clothes than black jeans.

He is extremely thankful for that as he presses back into his mate, and for Derek’s penchant for going commando too. “What do you want, Derek?” Stiles asks softly.

Derek sighs happily and pulls back from his neck, pausing to leave a gentle kiss on the most roughed up patch of skin. “Go upstairs,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “Take off all of your clothes, an start opening yourself. Will you do that for me?”

Stiles nods dumbly, his body eager to follow Derek’s orders. “Yes,” he adds, because he knows Derek likes to hear it.

“Good,” Derek hums, lips back on his shoulder. “Be sure to use the edible lube,” he adds before stepping away and giving Stiles a gentle, loving nudge towards the door.

**~*~  
**

It’s an excruciating fifteen minutes later when Derek finally comes upstairs, fully clothed still, holding the mirror under his arm. He pauses just inside the doorway of their bedroom as he catches sight of Stiles, sprawled in the middle of the bed on his back, long legs splayed open wantonly, two fingers buried in his ass, hand and balls slick with lube. Stiles drinks in the dazed and heated look in Derek’s eyes as he stands there watching him, feeling almost drunk on the power of knowing that he can affect Derek in this way. That he gets to be the one to see just how gorgeous Derek is when he’s at his most open and vulnerable and needy. It makes the hard-edged beauty of his often-angry and closed demeanor seem tame in comparison, the way it slices into Stiles and floods him with heat.

“Derek,” he whines, pleading, not even knowing exactly what he’s asking for, just wanting Derek. Derek steps further into the room before leaning the mirror against the bed and stripping off his shirt. The hand that isn’t still steadily stretching himself open jumps to his dick as he takes in Derek’s muscled chest, perfect little nipples that he loves to suck hard and pink hiding in the dark scattering of chest hair. He’s a vision.

“Not yet,” Derek says, narrowing his eyebrows at him until he removes his hand from his cock. “You can’t come until I tell you to,” he says. “I need to show you something,” he adds with a teasing smile. He pulls his shorts off and reaches for the mirror, lying it face up on the floor perpendicular to the side of the bed. “Come here,” he commands. Stiles pulls his fingers out from his ass with a grunt, starting to get an idea of what Derek has in mind. It might take some getting to used to at first, but he’s very interested. “On your knees.” It’s almost a growl. “Hold yourself up on the bed. Look into into the mirror. Keep your eyes open and watch everything I do to you.”

His words and the rich commanding edge of his voice send shivers of need and want through Stiles and he does exactly as he’s told, eager to give Derek everything he wants. He straddles the long mirror and settling his elbows on the edge of the bed, head hanging between his arms so he can look down.

The angle is weird and it’s definitely an adjustment to see himself like that, his cheeks and chest flushed red, mouth hanging open, hard cock stretching between his legs, his swollen balls hanging heavily behind it. He can see his perineum, and just beyond, the shadow of his hole, glistening and open. “I want to show you what I see,” Derek is saying as he drops to his knees behind Stiles, firm, hot hand settling on his ass and pulling him open. “I want you to see how pretty you are, when you’re open and taking my mouth. Want you to know how beautiful you are. Do you want that, Stiles?” 

Stiles nods, gasping something that sounds like a yes, unable to take his eyes off where the fingers of Derek’s other hand are starting to creep towards his hole. He’s slicked them up and they slide in easily. He quakes with excitement as he watches the reflection, Derek’s fingers disappearing into him. Holy hell, what a sight that is. It’s so unbelievably erotic, seeing the thrusts and pull and twist of Derek’s fingers as he’s feeling them, the combined sensation lighting him up from all directions. “Keep watching,” Derek huffs, as if he could look anywhere else. He nods his assent anyways, is rewarded with a firm squeeze of his ass and a “good boy,” said with that potent mix of heat and affection that gives Derek so much power over him. 

Derek replaces his fingers with his mouth, not even bothering to tease with it first, just diving in right in with assured thrusts, and Stiles feels his eyes bulge at the angle he has of Derek’s red tongue as he fucks him with it. He sees the way Derek smiles against his hole when Stiles starts rolling his hips in time with the thrusts of his sloppy wet tongue. His cock is starting to leak precome, and Derek reaches and swoops his palm over the head, scooping some up. The sight and pressure of Derek’s hand on his cock, brief as it was, makes him spasm and clench around Derek’s tongue, quickly approaching the point of no return. 

Derek pulls his tongue back to wipe his palm over Stiles’ hole, slicking him up further with his own precome before going back to work with his tongue, his beard wet and soft against Stiles’ skin.

“Derek,” he hears himself pant, not at all embarrassed by the desperation he hears in his voice, still keeping his eyes locked on his reflection, watching Derek destroy him in the most intimate of ways. “Derek, I’m going to come soon, need to come soon,” he begs.

Derek pulls away just long enough to growl _“come,”_ against his hole before tonguing into him with renewed vigor. Stiles drops a hand to his dick, but it’s just to help his orgasm along and extend it, because he’s already coming from watching Derek tongue-fuck his ass so thoroughly.

It feels like his body and stiffening and loosening all at once, wild bursts of heat rocking through him in spasms as he spills lengthy spurts of come across his reflection.

Derek’s wrecked voice keeps him from dazing out completely. “Watch,” he’s growling, over and over again, and Stiles, loose-limbed and sex-hazed, keeps his eyes on the now-messy mirror. Derek has pulled his mouth away from his hole and is shoving his cock between the slick cleft of his ass, not even bothering to shove into him because he’s so close. Stiles watches the reflection in awe as Derek jerks himself twice and then he’s spilling hot, thick come against Stiles’ gaping hole and newly-relaxed balls. He sees the way his body clenches reflexively, as if he's trying to pull his mate's mark inside of him. 

He sees what Derek sees.

He finally lets himself close his eyes, shivering, letting his body collapse into languid bliss, his limbs heavy and spent. Derek holds him up as he goes limp, standing and hauling Stiles to his feet in one smooth, easy move. “You’re so good for me,” Derek murmurs against his ear as Stiles leans back against his chest. Derek sounds sheepish, like he’s embarrassed that he likes it when Stiles goes pliant and obedient for him.

“I love you, Sexywolf,” Stiles says sleepily, patting Derek’s hand clumsily where it clutches him around the waist. Derek just grunts and leads him to the shower, running a finger along Stiles’ ass to sweep up of some of his come, licking his finger before placing it against Stiles’ lips, where he licks greedily at it.

In shower, he insists on washing Stiles head to toe, inside and out, the instinct to clean and care for his mate after sex always strong for him. It’s only early evening, the sun still hanging low in the sky, bathing their bedroom in soft golden light, but they’re both sex-sleepy and in need of some serious skin-to-skin contact, so they crawl into bed naked, still slightly damp, curled around each other in a mess of limbs.

“Remind me to send Lydia a thank-you note,” Stiles whispers just as they’re both about to fall asleep. 

“Huh,” Derek mumbles, beard and lips brushing against Stiles’ temple.

“For the housewarming gift,” he explains, falling asleep to the feel of Derek’s smile against his hair. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inspired but this [NSFW/Explicit pic.](http://gaypornishot.tumblr.com/post/86315839810/lunch-time) Thank you, Tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: http://deleted-scenes.tumblr.com/


End file.
